We Are Young
by MyLifeandHis
Summary: Destiny doesn't do home visits. I can sit and chit chat with Bella, flirting with her on my balcony all I want to, but am I actually going for it?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi there. So, this is my new story. I hope you like it. I'll post a chapter a day for 16 days.**

**Thanks to sadtomato for telling me when something sounded good or bad and to MeteorMuse for her awesome beta skills and to Anntastic23 for her lovely prereading thoughts. Thanks for reading, friends!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Are we posting these still? I mean ... whatever. I didn't create Edward and Bella. I just created this ficlet. Xox**

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"Dude ... it looks amazing. Seriously, I love it." As I pull my tee shirt back over my head, I wince. The plastic on my shoulder crinkles a bit, but I don't need the noise to remind me what I've just done. My first tattoo. My mother-God rest her soul-would kill me. I walk toward the door of the shop and turn to wave. "Thanks again, man."

It's dark, and I'm tired, but I head down the street toward the bar. After working until two a.m., I had three classes this morning and then a two hour session at this tattoo shop, but now I have a five hour shift at work ahead of me. No rest for the weary.

I walk in the back door and set my bag on a stool, grabbing a piece of gum and shoving it in my mouth as I lean back against the door to close it. Remembering my shoulder too late, I wince when it grazes the cold metal. Shit, it's gonna be a rough night.

* * *

"Hey, Eddie! We need some more pint glasses up here. Now!"

I wipe the sweat off my brow on the sleeve of my white v-neck before hauling the drainer bin full of glasses up and carrying them out front. Scalding hot water runs down my forearms, dripping off my elbows as I load the glasses into the cooler, quickly checking each one for traces of lipstick.

"Thanks, babe. It's way busier tonight than usual."

I work at a bar run by two chicks who ruffle my hair and call me babe. I think they gave me the job because they thought I was cute in a little brother sort of way. Or maybe they just felt sorry for me. Either way, it's essentially slave labor. I'm a liquor gopher, a stockman, a dishwasher, a busboy, and one time, I even got to throw someone out. I mean, Mandy threw the guy out. I just stood behind her and looked like I was going to punch him if he didn't leave. It seemed to be effective.

Anyway, they pay me better than minimum wage, and they always give me more than my share of the tips for the night, so I can't complain. Between working here six nights a week and the student loans I have out, I get by. Barely.

I go to the back and grab three of our cheapest bottles of vodka and one of Patron. It's well drink night so I'm sure vodka will be low, and one of our regulars, John, only drinks Patron straight up. He's a crazy mother fucker, Johnny. Tells stories about all four of his ex-wives as if he still loves them all. Probably still does, if he could just remember their names.

I look at my watch: two hours until close, another hour of cleanup, then the bus, and finally, bed. Maybe Mandy will give me a ride. I'm dead on my feet here.

Three hours later, the bus is late. Mandy the night owl was staying after to work on the books, so I made my way to the bus stop, and it's fifteen minutes late picking me up. Collapsing into a seat, I fall asleep and almost miss my stop, but one of the other regular riders on my route notices me and kicks my shoe at the last minute. I stumble down the walk, up the stairs and to the end of the corridor, shove my key in the lock, then the deadbolt, and slam the door behind me. Home, sweet home. I don't even bother turning on the lights, simply kicking off my shoes, dropping my jeans and collapsing onto the bed.

The next morning, I undress my shoulder and look carefully over it into the bathroom mirror, smiling at what I see.

It's perfect. The font, the spacing, everything. It's exactly how I've been picturing it for two years, and after saving up the cash it's finally there. Faulkner's words on my back forever, hidden from everyone but those I choose to reveal it to.

_Go on and wonder._

I hope my mom would at least be proud of the message I chose.

I get ready for class slowly: shower, coffee and cereal with a book in my hand. Then, I realize how much time I've wasted and brush my teeth while I throw on shoes and socks, grab my bag and run out the door in a rush. As I turn the key in both lock and deadbolt, I sigh, shrugging my bag higher on my shoulder. Another day begins.

As I wait at the bus stop, I watch cars pulling in at the shitty public high school across the street. One after another, rusted out hand-me-down rides mingle with tricked out hoopties. I never had a car when I went to school there. My uncle didn't think it was necessary, and I never minded the bus. Gave me time to read.

I watch patiently, waiting. A neon blue Cadillac. 1985ish. Chrome wheels. Bass shaking it's tinted windows. A hot pink 1995 Chevy Cavalier. Dented doors on both sides and a gray trunk lid. I think they must slide in through the windows. As more cars file into the parking spaces, I wonder if they're skipping today.

The bus pulls up, and I start to get on but then I see it flying down the street. A black Dodge Caravan. Probably 1992 or 3. Some punk boy band blasting from all around. The blonde is driving of course, but she barely even registers. Instead, I can't take my eyes off the passenger seat. Long, straightened dark hair swirls out the open window, a nose ring glints in the sunlight. She's bobbing her head and singing along to every word of some song I'm not cool enough to know the name of.

"Bella," I whisper, wishing she could actually hear me, and get on the bus.

Bella and I went to the same high school for a few years. She was-is-a year younger than me, and while I moved on to college, she's a senior now. Some days I wish I was back there, but all of my reasons revolve around seeing Bella. She's gorgeous, and fun seems to follow her everywhere. But there were a ton of times, when she thought no one was paying attention, that she got this faraway look in her eyes. This look like she'd rather be a million miles away. I was paying attention. I saw her, and I wanted to go wherever that place was too.

The thing is, I don't think she even knew who I was back then. Probably still doesn't. See, in our high school, there weren't very many groups. There were jocks, geeks, drug dealers, and punks, with the small percentage of white kids divided among the other groups. Bella was always hanging out with the popular punk kids, and I was usually at a table alone, reading a book or writing in my journals. I mean, I had friends, but I didn't belong in a group. It's hard to make many friends when you're one of only a handful of kids in a failing public school system that wants to go to college, that can't wait to write an essay. That likes to learn.

It's a short ride to campus, so after I'm done daydreaming about Bella, I don't even have time to pull out a book to get lost in. This is my reality. Day five billion.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Thank you; for now we shall soon be acquainted, as I am authorized to tease you on this subject whenever we meet, and nothing in the world advances intimacy so much." _

_Teasing. Intimacy. I once watched a jock tease Bella about her hair for three days straight. Apparently, he thought she had 'straight, thin white girl hair that needed a good weave'. He obviously wanted in her pants. Teasing did not equal intimacy for their situation. However, she always made a point to talk to him after that. Ask him how he was, how the 'big game' went. Maybe I should have tried to tease her. Maybe we'd be sharing an intimacy unknown to me at this very moment._

I close my journal and shove it in my bag, hopping off the bus at home. It's Sunday, the one day I don't have to work. I spent the morning at the library, doing some assignments and reading some Northanger Abbey for class before heading back home to work on laundry. All the way home, I couldn't get this one scene from that stupid chick book out of my head, so I wrote about it a bit. Helps me sort things out to write.

As I walk down the sidewalk to my complex, I notice a Dodge Caravan. Black. Old. Rusting. My heart drops to my stomach, and I pick up the pace, keeping my eyes peeled for the girl that drives it. Once inside my apartment, I quickly grab the clothes from various piles on the floor and toss them all in a laundry bag. Bag in one hand, detergent and quarter roll in the other, I go to the basement and set up at two machines. My mind is racing. What would she be doing here? It's Sunday ... maybe she knows someone in the building? I've never seen that car around before. Would Bella be with her? What does Bella do on her weekends? I check my watch and wander out of the basement and around the complex, casually searching for any sign of her in the building. Nothing.

When my clothes are done drying, I take the whole lot back up to my place, throwing it all on the futon in the living room to fold it. My jeans aren't totally dry. They never get dry in those shitty quarter machines. I throw up the window and step out on the fire escape to lay them out, almost falling backward when I see Bella and her blonde friend drinking beers on the balcony down a level and one apartment over to the right. As fast as I can, I throw my jeans over the rail in a sloppy tangle before diving back in through the window and tripping over the sill. I lie there for a few moments, trying to decide exactly how much of an idiot I just appeared to be, before settling on the sad fact that they probably didn't even see me. I'm not even on their radar, I'm sure.

"Hello? You okay up there?" Giggles drift up through my open window, and I cringe. Fuck.

I right myself and take a deep breath, trying to decide what to do. Maybe they'll go back inside.

"Hey, your jeans are gonna fall off the railing!"

Shit. Not going back in, I guess. I hesitantly step back through the window, feet first so my embarrassingly red face will appear last.

"Uh, thanks. My p-pants are wet. I mean, I didn't wet them. They're wet. It's laundry day. I don't even have clean underwear on. I mean, I'm not wearing underwear. Because it's laundry day. Shit."

I'm completely mortified and considering another window escape. Two faces stare up at me blankly before their lips curl up into smiles, and they dissolve into a fit of laughter.

"You're commando under there? Kinky. I like it!" The blonde says, giving Bella an exaggerated wink.

"You should probably just stop ... stop talking," Bella gets out through these adorable snorting giggles.

I stare at her for a moment. It's been so long since she was this close, and I'm struck by her beauty all over again. Her face has gotten older, more mature, and she wears thick black eyeliner now. There's dark maroon stain on her lips, and her eyelids are caked in dark green, highlighting the shade of her hazel eyes ... and the red lines that rim both irises. Then I realize they're _completely_high. And half-buzzed. They're probably seventeen years old, high and drunk on a Sunday afternoon, and will likely not remember a single bit of this interaction. With any remaining dignity I can gather, I straighten my shoulders and nod at them abruptly.

"You know what I meant." It's the best I can come up with as I disappear back through my window and lie on the couch, their sweet voices drifting through the window and lulling me into a much-needed nap.

When I wake up hours later, it's getting dark out, but it's only a little after four o'clock. I go to the window to pull my jeans in before the rain hits, but they're sitting on the sill. The three pairs are neatly folded in a stack, and a note sticks out of the pocket of the top pair.

_Be sure you wear some boxers with these. :)_

I close my eyes and bring the note to my nose. It doesn't smell like girl. It smells like weed and paper and something stale. So instead, I focus on the handwriting. Her _s_'s loop around like they're all uppercase, and her smiley face is crooked. She was probably still drunk.

I sigh and grab my bag, planning to do some more homework from bed. I get about three tasks accomplished before I just lie there for a few hours, thinking about Bella.

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**Thanks for reading, friends!**


	3. Chapter 3

I can't stop hoping Bella will reappear sometime. I make excuses to sit on the fire escape: reading books, writing an essay by hand, talking to Mandy on my cell phone about some schedule changes at the bar. I even spend an entire evening in front of the mirror practicing what I'll say if she comes around again. But she's never there.

On the third week after my word vomit on the fire escape, on Thursday, I have a longer break than normal between class and work, so I take the bus home to relax for a few hours. As I head down the walk, it's there. Black Dodge Caravan parked right out front. My throat dries instantly, and my hand shakes a bit as I turn the key in the lock. It's a really nice day, sun shining bright. I'd bet decent money they're on that balcony again. Drinking, smoking, doing whatever they do.

I pace my kitchen for twenty minutes, trying to calm down and decide what my angle of conversation should be. Finally, I tell myself to get a grip, grabbing a can of Coke from the fridge and a journal and pencil from the counter before opening the window. Laughter drifts up instantly, and I take a deep breath before ducking through.

"Oh, hello," I call, acting casual as I sit on the fire escape steps.

"Hey, it's Commando! What's up, buddy?" The blonde must be more talkative than Bella-either that or she's more drunk. They both hold beer cans, but it's only one in the afternoon. Surely they aren't wasted like they were that Sunday.

"Actually, my name's Edward. Nice to meet you." No comments about peeing myself or wearing dirty underwear. So far, so good.

"I'm Rose. And this is Bella." She giggles and elbows Bella in the side roughly. Bella ducks her head and waves as Rose continues. "You used to go to our school, right? Nerdy guy with a book all the time?"

"Uh, yeah, that would be me I guess." I lift my journal in the air as if to prove my nerdiness and look down to pop the tab on my soda.

"He wasn't a nerd, Rose. He was just smart, okay?" Bella's voice is soft, but firm.

"Oh, look at you, defending some dude you don't even know. How many beers have you had?" Rose snorts and walks back inside the apartment, leaving the two of us alone.

"Sorry about that. Rose is kind of a bitch. Like, a big one."

"Not a problem. I've been called worse," I say.

Silence. Uncomfortable silence. I clear my throat and try to think of something engaging to say before she follows her friend. "Nice day, right? You should be in class though." Great. Now I sound like her father probably.

She grins and looks up to meet my gaze. "Probably should. You gonna call the school?" Her eyes are hard, daring me to get her into trouble.

I hold my hands up in the air for a second. "Hey, no way. No judging. Not me. I'm skipping class too." Where the hell did that come from? I'm an idiot.

"Oh, you're in school? That's cool. Where do you go?" Her face softens, as if she's truly interested.

Maybe not such an idiot after all. "Just the community college this year. I'm transferring to the university next year, but it was cheaper to get some credits out of the way first."

"Oh, right. True. I don't really know anything about college, so it all sounds cool to me." She drifts off and glances in the door, probably looking for Rose to save her from this conversation.

"You're a senior, though. Aren't you starting to make plans?" I blurt out, not realizing until too late that I've just shown that I know her better than she probably thinks.

Her face swings back toward me, confusion and caution plainly written across it. She speaks slowly, backing toward the door to an apartment that isn't mine. "Umm. Yeah. I'm a senior. I have to go. I ... I need another beer."

"Wait! I mean, I just remember you from school is all. You're hard to miss. I mean, you were gorgeous. Are gorgeous." Fuck. I run a hand through my hair and look at my shoes. I've totally fucked this up.

"You're weird," she whispers quietly, hand on the door now. "But, thanks, I guess. See you around, Edward." As I lift my head to catch one last glimpse of her before she's gone, I realize she's smiling up at me.

"Yeah, see ya," I whisper back, so softly she probably thinks I'm just moving my lips.

"Bella, there you are! Emmett wants to do shots." I hear Rose calling her before the door closes tightly, shutting me off from her world.

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**Aww, poor Edward really has no filter. ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes, I wake up in the night drenched in sweat with the sheets tangled around my torso. It takes forever to get my heart rate back down, and I usually don't actually end up getting back to sleep. Apparently, tonight is one of those nights. I wake up with a start, look at the clock, and jump out of bed, trying to scrub the nightmare from my brain.

After grabbing a washcloth from the tiny linen closet, I wet it with cold water from the bathroom sink and rub it across my forehead and down around my neck The cold helps shock me awake, and I try to relax, leaning against the bathroom door frame and taking deep, gulping breaths.

The clock reads 3:04. I'm completely exhausted after working until one o'clock, but every single time I close my eyes, the dream comes back like a freight train.

_It's the day of my mom's final chemo treatment, and I'm wandering the halls of the hospital alone._

_"Shouldn't you be with an adult?" "Do you need help finding something?" Nurses ask me a question everywhere I turn, but they're all too busy to actually follow through and make me go back to the cancer wing. And then it happens._

_I turn a corner to one of the rooms where the really sick people are, and there I am, lying in the bed facing ... myself. I don't look quite like myself though. My hair is gone, and I've lost a good thirty or forty pounds from my already lean frame. I'm skeletal. Obviously on my deathbed. And I just stand there watching me die._

It's the same fucking dream every time. I don't understand it. I don't know what it means. I just know I never want to have the nightmare again.

I was twelve when Mom died. She'd been sick for longer than I could remember, and we had moved in with my uncle a good year prior. Carlisle was always good to me. He took care of me right through high school graduation with no complaints, though I was hardly any trouble. But as soon as he saw me settled in an apartment and enrolled in college with a little cash set aside, he was gone. Took off as soon as his own lease was up and moved to the West Coast with some chick he met on the Internet. And it's okay, really. We were never that close. I mean, sure, we bonded over my mom's death and the horrible things cancer did to her, but he never became, like, a father figure or anything. He's too young for that, only thirty-two this year, and after my real dad left when I was six, I never felt like I needed a replacement anyway-I was the center of my mom's world. She more than made up for the lack of a dad. Anyway, Uncle Carlisle and I talk regularly, and I think he'd come back if he thought I wasn't making it on my own. But I'm fine. Really. Just a little lonely sometimes. My thoughts flicker to Bella as I shut the lights back out and try to sleep again.

* * *

The next morning, I drag my ass out of bed, shower, take care of my tattoo-which is almost totally healed-and walk like a zombie toward the bus stop. Because I didn't even bother with breakfast, I'm early, so I sit and wait, my head lolling forward on my neck. I'm too tired even to watch for the black Caravan, but when I hear that tell-tale beat get closer, I have to look up.

_So let's set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun ..._

Bella is belting out the lyrics so loudly all I can do is smile and wave. She's so into it, she doesn't even see me, but Rose notices me and hits the brakes.

"Commannndoooooooo!" She yells, waving her hand wildly in my direction. Bella immediately stops her head bobbing and stares at me from across the street, in her little cocoon of music and musty old van.

My smile falters, but I keep my hand up in a wave, and she finally snaps out of it, waves back and turns toward the school. I'd give my right hand to know what she's thinking.

The van comes to a screeching halt (Rose should probably spend a little more time in Drivers' Ed), and the girls get out slowly, wandering over to a group of guys on the perimeter of the parking lot. Two of the guys are smoking, and one immediately shoves an arm across Bella's shoulders, pulling her close to his side and holding the cigarette out to her for a drag. She takes a puff, but quickly blows the smoke over her shoulder, glancing my way. I mean, I think she's glancing my way. Maybe she's just looking out the street. Who knows?

I hear the bus coming from the opposite direction, but I can't look away just yet. The guy with his arm around her is big, dark tanned, maybe mixed, maybe some kind of Native American or something. A thick tribal band spans the bicep of the arm over her shoulders, and his tattered tee shirt doesn't quite meet his jeans. I snort when I realize he looks a little like the Hulk after a run-in with trouble. Almost as if she's read my thoughts, Bella tosses her hair over her shoulder and looks directly at me, grinning slightly. I lift my hand to wave before climbing the steps of the bus, but she's already turned back to her friends and her cigarette. Already forgotten about the nerd at the bus stop.

**Thanks so much for reading. Your reviews mean the world. Xox**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews. Each one means so much to me for this little story. Thanks again for reading!**

Days pass, and a sort of pattern develops. If I have more than two hours between class and work, I go home, torn between the hope that Bella will be in my building and the hope that she'll actually be in class. Most days it's a toss-up, but I begin to notice that she's more likely to be there hanging out if it's a really nice day.

Immediately, my new best friend is the weatherman. Seeing as I don't have cable, I jump on my laptop every morning and check the forecast before heading off to school, checking again in the afternoon and once more before bed each night. It's common to be happiest when the sun is shining, but I suddenly turn into an all-out asshole if there's rain on the horizon, grumbling and moping around like I have seasonal-affective disorder or something.

After two days of solid downpour, I don't realize that I've been taking my frustration out on my bosses for nearly an entire shift.

"There's something wrong with the fucking dishwasher again. You ever gonna spring for a new one?"

Mandy looks taken aback, and I realize I've just cussed in front of her. I can count on one hand the number of times I've used profanity at work. It's just not really my thing. I guess I figure I've read enough books in my life that my vocabulary ought to be large enough to adequately express myself without resorting to damnshitfuck when I'm upset.

"All right, what's going on, Edward? You've been acting like a dick for three days now." She grabs me by the neck of the shirt and shoves me onto the bar stool in front of her. "Talk."

I hang my head and sigh, wondering how to explain my mood swings. "I don't really know. I mean, school's fine. And you guys are always great. I guess I've just been ... I dunno, lonely?" I phrase it as a question, like I've been doing the loner thing long enough I shouldn't have a right to the emotion. I hesitate to say more, but she's looking at me expectantly, so I roll my eyes and continue. "And maybe there's this girl ..." I trail off, not even sure what to say, how to describe Bella, or what I feel for her.

"A girl? You've worked here for eight months, and you've never a single time mentioned a girl. In fact, I was pretty convinced that you were gay. _Not_that there's anything wrong with that." Her stare is boring a hole in my forehead, but I keep my gaze to the floor, cheeks flaming at her honesty.

"A girl. This is good. This I can work with," Mandy mutters and wanders back to the kitchen, obviously deep in thought.

Great. Just what I need is some thirty-five-year-old bar owner giving me pointers on how to get the seventeen-year-old girl of my dreams.

* * *

"Dude, just blow it off. I'm telling you, flirt with him a little, and he'll pass you for sure." Rose's voice drifts through my open window, and I jump off the couch, pencils and paper flying. It's late evening, and I got the night off work to finish a project, so I've been knee deep in books, paper and my laptop for a few hours. But the voice I've just heard throws that all to the wayside. If Rose is here-talking about some kind of school work-then Bella is likely here, too.

I go to the bathroom to make sure I look presentable; my hair is all over the place, and I haven't shaved in a few days. It's probably a lost cause, but I swig some mouthwash and trade my wrinkled tee shirt for a clean, black one from the bedroom before heading to the window. I stick my head out and look around for a few moments, pretend I'm taking in the view of the crappy apartment building the faces mine.

"Oh. Hey," I say, when I finally let my eyes fall on Bella. She doesn't look up. She's frantically scribbling something in a beat-up notebook, and a battered copy of The Great Gatsby sits next to her on the arm of the plastic lawn chair. I nearly go back inside, but I really, really want to talk to her now that she's here again and clear my throat a little too loudly to catch her attention.

Bella startles and drops her pen, fumbling to grab at it as it falls between the wood slats of the balcony. "Shit," she mumbles and glances up at me. "That was my only goddamn pen." The look she gives me tells me she's trying not to be pissed, and I cringe.

"Uh, sorry. I have about a hundred pencils but I can probably scrounge up a pen. Hold on?" She nods her head, so I turn and duck back inside. Smooth one, buddy. She's obviously working on homework, and you not only scare her, she loses her only pen. Maybe I have a Sharpie or something? A pen from the apartment building somewhere?

When my backpack turns up nothing, I dig around in the kitchen drawers for as long as I dare, certain she'll disappear before I go back out there. I grab a handful of pencils from the bed and climb back through the window. "No pens, but I brought about twenty pencils. Sorry, again." I look down her way, and she's sitting with her head in her hands. She's sniffling softly.

"Bella," I whisper.

"Yeah." She looks up, wiping black streaks from under her eyes. "I'm cool. It's whatever. Pencils work, right?"

I smile at her gently, knowing I should tread lightly around a crying girl but not really sure what's going on. And to make matters more awkward, I'm not sure how to go about getting the pencil to her. She's too far away to just hand it over, and it's starting to get dark out. Knowing my luck, my aim would miss and all my pencils would end up down below, casualties of our interaction alongside her pen. Poor little soldiers.

"You okay?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yeah. I'm good. Seriously. Just a ... girl moment, I guess."

"So, you want a pencil?" I hold one out in offering.

"Yes. I do. Umm." Bella looks around, realizing there's no good way to get the pencils from my hand. "Here," she calls and, without pause, throws her notebook and paperback up at me. Miraculously, I catch them with my one free hand, cradling them against my torso and peeking to get a glimpse of her handwriting on the pages. It's frantic, a blur of cursive scribbles and crossed out words everywhere.

I look back over the railing just in time to see Bella stepping up onto the rail of her friend's balcony and stretching forward slowly to grab the bottom rungs of my own. I'm mesmerized by her movement, the muscles in her arms flexing and contracting as she winds her way around, swinging her tiny frame from her platform to the one below mine. She disappears for a second and then I hear her feet climb the steps to my own landing. Her shirt has ridden up, catching on her breasts and a sliver of her stomach peeks out at me, taunting. Bella follows my gaze but she doesn't get embarrassed, just pulls her shirt down to cover herself and says 'hi'. My eyes follow her hand up her arm to her neck, where I'm surprised to see ink. _TRUST_lies just above the collar of the left side of her shirt, bold simple lines spelling out one of the most underused and unfollowed words in the English language.

And after watching her-her body, her movement, her actions-for what was probably only thirty seconds, my brain finally focuses on the one thing that should matter. Bella is on my fire escape, mere steps from the window to my apartment, to my life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Some clarification on the apartment building layout: Edward's building is comprised of one-bedroom units. Each has a wooden balcony with a sliding door off the bedroom and a metal fire escape off the living room window. Most of Edward and Bella's communication so far has been from the balcony of the apartment below and to the right of Edward's fire escape. Also, the time frame for chapter 6 is early April.**

**This is my favorite chapter ... thanks for reading!**

"How'd you do that?" I ask, taking a step toward her in the tiny space.

"Oh. I used to climb things a lot as a kid. It's like, second nature. How do you think I folded your jeans and put them in your window?" She grins at me, like she's explaining the most simplistic thing to a toddler.

"Oh. Right. I ... I really don't know. I didn't think about it, I guess."

She frowns for a moment before reaching for her things. I had over the notebook and paperback and what now seems like a ridiculously large supply of pencils.

"Thanks," she says. "I guess I should go."

"No!" I call, forgetting to rein myself in for a moment. "I mean, don't go. Stay. Hang out. Want a Coke?"

She giggles. "Are you always this spastic? Yeah, a Coke sounds great. And maybe a blanket, if you have one?" She shivers a little, and I realize the evening has turned cool with the sunset.

"Be right back."

I return with two Cokes and a quilt that my grandma gave my mom before she died. It's got this white, pink and green patchwork pattern, but I've never minded. I feel kind of proud of the former women in my life when I use it.

"Thanks," she whispers, wrapping it around her before sitting down on the cold metal. "I was getting chilly, and I can't concentrate in that living room down there. Boys can be so loud sometimes."

"Indeed they can. What are you working on?" I wipe my sweaty palms discreetly on the legs of my jeans, noticing too late that there's a stain on the left thigh.

"Umm, just a fucking assignment for class. It's pretty much do or die at this point in the game, and I'm realizing I screwed around too much. I have to get, like, a kickass grade on this paper, or I'm fucked."

I stare at her lips, trying to figure out how the word fuck is suddenly sexy to me, and she looks away. "You're acting weird again," she whispers.

"Sorry." I snap out of my trance. "Just trying to figure out how you got such a filthy mouth." I grin, trying to lighten the mood and look down, taking a drink of my soda. "So it's a paper on The Great Gatsby. Big deal. That's cake, right?"

Bella snorts. "Maybe for a genius like you." She pulls up her notebook, reviewing the last few sentences she's written and begins to cross one of them out immediately.

"Stop," I say and cover her hand with my own. "Can I take a look?"

"Sure."

I take the notebook and a Xeroxed sheet of paper that looks like it's been crumpled and then pressed out, reviewing the assignment and some of her writing. My literature-soaked brain latches on to the task, something easier than trying to make small talk, and I launch into a series of babble. "This is so easy. You can totally do this. You're spot on with this sentence, but here, let me find something he says in the book ... here, this paragraph. Expand on that part, and you're good." But then I realize Bella is staring at me like I've grown a second head, so I shut up and hand the books back to her. "Sorry. You didn't ask for help."

"No, it's not that. I mean, you're so good at this shit. How the hell do you remember reading this?"

I flush but force myself to hold her gaze. "I'm a Literature major. I kind of want to teach, like, this exact thing." We both grin at each other. I'm assessing the bizarreness of the situation, and she's likely assessing my weirdness level at the moment. "Anyway, if you want help, I'm your guy."

"Yes! Please. I mean, it's not every fucking day you run into a Literature major when you're having literature troubles." She laughs for a second, and then I realize she's nervous.

Wanting more than anything to put her at ease, I gently take the notebook from her hands yet again and begin to explain how The Great Gatsby has a recurring theme of honesty and trust issues.

"So look, Gatsby himself says _'I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known', _but the entire story is about how he basically fabricates a life that isn't his with things that aren't his, possessions that aren't his ... all to get the girl. He truly believes he's an honest person, but who can actually trust him? No one. So, if we read this book and only this book, are we to assume that humans are inherently dishonest? I would say yes. It's my personal opinion, but that's how I feel. The way Fitzgerald portrays the human race is ... I don't know. It's almost disturbing how disreputable all of his characters are. Does that make sense?"

I look over at Bella, and she's staring at me pretty much how I've been staring at her for the past few years. It's not uncomfortable. It feels good, and I bask in her gaze while she blinks a few times before responding.

"Yeah, it makes total fucking sense. I'm sure he talked about all that in class. But he probably didn't explain it as well as you just did. Thanks. I mean it, Edward. I was panicking over this shit before you came out here, and now I think I can fucking do this. Thank you."

Her eyes are still so intent I have to look away for a second, and I take a deep breath. "Anytime," I say, meeting her gaze again. "I'm always around."

We work side by side on her essay for the next few hours until she's come up with something she's pretty sure she can go home and type out before turning it in tomorrow. And then ... we just sit there together on my fire escape. She watches the moon come out while I watch its reflection glint off her long, dark hair, and I talk about books I'm currently reading before she tries to explain the latest cool songs to me.

Bella loves music like I love to read. She says she can get lost in a song, the rhythm and lyrics swallowing her whole wherever she sits. I think I could get lost in Bella.


	7. Chapter 7

"What's with the whistling, lover boy?"

I stop dead in my tracks and look over my shoulder at Mandy, grinning like the Cheshire cat behind her bar. "What do you mean?" I ask her cautiously.

"You've been happier than I've ever seen you for the past week. And I know it has something to do with that girl. What gives? What changed between last week and now?" She crosses her arms over her chest, obviously not willing to let me off the hook, so I turn and walk back toward her.

"Okay, promise not to tease me about all of this if I tell you?"

"Only if it's not something tease-worthy." She's still grinning. I kind of want to punch her.

"Fine. Bella and I have been hanging out some. I mean, I guess you could call it that. But it doesn't mean anything. It's just, whatever, you know? I really enjoy her company."

"Hmm, so she has a name. Bella. I like it. Have you kissed her yet?"

My face heats at just the thought of those lips on my own. "No. Of course not. I told you it doesn't mean anything."

"Edward, lots of people kiss other people without it meaning anything. You really like this girl, right?" She pauses, waiting for an answer. "Right?"

"Yeah. I like her."

"Is she into you?"

"Hmm. I have no idea. But, I mean, she hangs out with me by choice, right? Like, she sought me out yesterday. That's something, I guess."

"You like her. She's into you. Have there been any moments of silence, awkward pauses where you just look at each other for a few seconds?"

I think back on the three times Bella and I have sat on my fire escape over the past week. Every moment with her is etched in my brain and playing on repeat. There have definitely been moments of silence, but I don't mind them, and I get the feeling she doesn't either.

"A few times, yeah. Sometimes it's nice to just sit and think, knowing there's someone next to you sitting and thinking too, you know?"

Mandy rolls her eyes and pulls out the towel that hangs from her back pocket to wipe down the counters. "Dude. A girl your age? Probably not just sitting and thinking. Well, I guess she could be, but the only thinking she's doing is thinking about you kissing her. Trust me."

Fuck. Does Bella want me to kiss her? I've thought about it-believe me, I've thought about it a _lot-_-but I'm not the kind of guy that can just act on that kind of thing. It'd take a whole lot more courage than I've got. And then what if she didn't actually want me to kiss her, and I did, and she ran away and never wanted me to talk to her again? Crap. I suck at this.

"Hey, Eddie. Don't bust a gasket over there. You're thinking too hard. When it's time to kiss her, you'll know it, okay? I'm well-versed in first kisses. Can't wait to hear about yours."

I simply nod my head before turning to the kitchen, back to another long night of work.

* * *

"So let me get this straight. The eyebrow ring you wanted, but you're just okay with; the lip ring you wanted, but you took out after three months because-and I quote-'it bugged the shit out of you'; and the nose ring was a dare, but you love it so much you'll never part with it? You're a strange girl, Bella Swan. Straaaaaange." I drag out the vowel sounds, laughing. It's not lost on me that I'm teasing her. Me, teasing Bella. A mere month ago, I wouldn't have thought it possible, but here we are.

"Yes. Precisely. Just goes to show you never fucking know what you might like or not like until you try it."

"Of course. Whatever you say. But I can guarantee that I, for one, would never like a nose ring. There's no way someone is piercing this perfection." I cock my head to the side, giving her a view of my profile. "See? This nose? No way someone's coming at it."

Bella giggles and pushes my shoulder. "Better hope you don't piss anyone off then. I bet that nose would be pretty fucking easy to break."

"No way." I snort. "I can't think of any potential situation that I, Edward Cullen, would get into that would lead to someone punching me. Never gonna happen."

"Never say never, dude."

Things have been like this for another week or so. Ten days, actually (not that I'm counting). Every few days, Bella shows up on her friend's balcony, and after a few minutes she joins me on my fire escape where we talk and drink sodas until Rose is ready to leave. Sometimes it's for hours and other times just a few minutes, but every time it's worth it. A few times, she's smoked cigarettes, but she never seems high or drunk anymore. It almost feels like she's coming here to see me now instead of to party with them. I try not to get my hopes up though. Everything so far has been strictly platonic.

Today though, it's hot out. It's only mid-April but there's a heat wave, and the high this afternoon is ninety degrees. Apparently, ninety degrees is the type of weather for Bella to wear a tattered denim mini-skirt and this loose blue tank top that shows pretty much all of her bright pink bra through the too-big arm holes. With miles of skin on display and this flirty mood she's in, Bella is making it very hard for my thoughts to stay platonic.

"It's so fucking hot out here. Can you believe this weather? It's crazy, right?"

I watch as she piles the hair on top of her head, fanning the back of her neck and blowing air up through her bangs, and try to adjust myself without her seeing.

"So crazy. If it's ninety in April, I don't even want to know what August is going to be like this year. I can barely afford the electric bill on this place as it is."

"I was kind of wondering about that. What's the deal with you living alone? Wouldn't it be easier to live at home while you go to school?"

I clear my throat and look away. "I've got no place but here to call home. My dad left when I was just a kid, and Mom died when I was twelve. I actually lived with my uncle in high school."

"Oh. Fuck. I'm so sorry, Edward. Are you okay? I mean it. I'm really sorry. It was shitty of me to assume ... God, I'm such a bitch."

I reach out and touch her arm, letting her know it's okay. "Bella, I'm fine. Really. I had a lot of time to tell her goodbye and my dad, well, I didn't need him. I'm happy here, truthfully. Just lonely sometimes." I add the last part in for good measure. Wouldn't want her to think I was doing too fine on my own, or she might stop visiting. "Come on. Let's talk about something else. We were having fun, right?"

She looks at me with a pause before replying. "Yeah, we were totally having fun. I'm surprised at how much fun I have every time I climb up here." Bella nudges my arm with her elbow, but this time it feels more than playful.

As I return Bella's gaze, my entire body leans toward her, wanting just a glimpse of a touch, a brush of my own skin on hers that doesn't just say 'hey' but more like 'hey, I wanna kiss you'. And in that moment, she's leaning back. Mandy's words float through my mind. When it's right, I'll know. I think it's right. I know it's right. And I lean in.

Bella's lips are warm. They're soft too, but all I can think about is how warm they are against my own. I'm scared to do this wrong, so I pull back a few inches, but not too far in case I should kiss her again.

Fuck it. I'm kissing her again. This time, she closes the gap with me, moving her lips against my own and even reaching her hand up to the back of my head, holding me close like she never wants me to stop. The air around us is so intense, I think I groan for a moment before opening my mouth just barely. Just enough to tell her what I want, if she's okay with it. And fuck if she doesn't open her own, slightly wider than mine, letting my lower lip fall in between her own. Just when my nerves are calming down and I think I'm ready to reach my own hand up to her cheek, Bella pulls away, leaning her forehead against mine.

"Fuck," she whispers. "I have to go." And before I can breathe, she's gone.

* * *

**Ahhhhh shit. They kissed. Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

The next day is just as hot, and Bella steals two of my pencils, securing her hair high on her head with them sticking out on either side of a sloppy bun. My eyes slide down her hair to her neck and focus on that tattoo again.

_TRUST_.

I wonder what it means to her. And then I realize that all I have to do is ask her.

"Aren't you a little too young for tattoos?" I sit next to her, a little closer than before, and dangle my legs over the edge of the platform.

"I'm eighteen. Last I checked, that was the only legal requirement."

"Oh. I guess I just assumed you were still seventeen. Sorry. I have one too. It's just not as visible as yours."

Bella is silent, and I run a hand through my hair before trying a different approach. "So. Trust. That's a pretty important concept." I reach up as I speak and gesture toward her neck, not quite bold enough to actually touch it.

She looks at me as if she's in on something I'm not. "Show me yours, and I'll show you mine?"

"Oh, so that's how this works. I see." I grin at her before toying with the hem of my shirt.

"I'm just shocked you have a tattoo, that's all. I can't wait to see what Commando chooses to permanently brand himself with."

I have a feeling if I never show her mine, she really won't ever show me hers, and I'm dying to know what's up with the trust thing, so I pull my shirt off and turn my back to her.

After a few seconds, I feel hot fingers barely touching my shoulder. "What does it mean?"

"Well, it means exactly what it says. Go on and wonder. Wonder about life and purpose and meaning. What does it all mean? Why are we here? Go on and wonder. It won't hurt you. That's what it means to me. But, it's from a book so it could mean whatever someone takes it to mean, I suppose." I pull my tee shirt back on before turning to look at Bella.

"What book?" She's looking at me with curiosity plainly etched on her face.

"The Sound and The Fury? It's Faulkner, and it's a very difficult read. I wouldn't recommend it unless you've got a lot of time to kill and a copy of the Cliff's Notes. But it's a story about loss and how people cope with loss. My mom and I read it together before she died."

The familiar silence we've come to know together over the past weeks settles over us for awhile. Finally, Bella clears her throat and rubs my back. "It's beautiful, Edward. I think she would love it."

"I hope so. That's kind of what I was going for." After a few seconds, I break the serious moment by grabbing at Bella's side, tickling her until she shrieks and pulls away. "Don't even think you're getting out of your turn, young lady."

"Fine," she says, then slowly reaches up and pulls her the neck of her tank top lower, and lower still, until I can see the top of her pink bra. But instead of focusing on her cleavage, I stare at what she's just revealed. Below the word _TRUST_, it says _NO ONE_. The entire message of her tattoo is hidden from the world, and it tells me so much more about her than anything she could tell me herself.

I take a deep breath before looking from the tattoo to her eyes. "I'm sorry you feel that way." My voice is rough and low, and I think she's just as surprised as I am to hear the emotion in my voice.

"Don't worry about it." She tries to shrug it off, pulling the tank top back into place and clearing her throat.

"Bella," I begin, uncertain what I might say. "What happened to you?"

The seconds tick by, and I almost start an entirely new conversation, but finally her voice answers me, low and soft.

"Nothing. Everything. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me. But I understand if you don't want to talk about it." I try to reach out for her hand but she pulls it back.

"Really, it's nothing major or groundbreaking. I've just never had someone in my life that I could fully trust, know what I mean? My bitch of a mom left when I was a baby. She didn't want me. My dad's fucking married to his job, working fifteen hour days and then bringing home either a twelve-pack or some bitch from the bar to keep him company at night. Every guy I've ever dated has only thought I was worth one thing. And the teachers at this shitshow of a school? They don't give a fuck about anything. Once the state gave up on our district, all hope went out the window of producing any fine, upstanding citizens. So, here I am. Essentially alone. Graduating next month-if I'm lucky-with nothing on the horizon. Nothing to look forward to. No one to trust." She pauses briefly. "It's dumb. I think I was drunk when I got it. Whatever."

"Bella." I grab her shoulder and turn her toward me, force her to look at me when I speak. "It's not whatever. I'm sorry you haven't had support in your life, but there are good people in this world. There are people that would never lie to you, would care for you. You have to know that."

She looks away as soon as I'm done, and I hear the telltale sniffling from a few weeks ago. "Sure," she says. "I gotta go. It's getting late. See you around." And before I can think of what to do next, she's gone again. Just like last night after our kiss.

As I lie in bed that night, unable to sleep, I vow to become the first person Bella can trust. Platonic or otherwise, she needs to know that someone out there cares. That I care.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, I don't see Bella but I'm not worried. I'm hoping she realized after our talk last night that she should probably put in a solid effort at the last few weeks of school. I catch up on some chores, washing a pile of cereal bowls and sandwich plates, cleaning my bathroom, and reorganizing my books. I alternate between alphabetical by author and genre. I'm fully aware that it's an illness. I glance out the window every half hour or so, but she never shows.

It's turned chilly again this afternoon, and when I finally have to lock up at five o'clock and catch the bus to work, I leave my quilt out on the fire escape just in case.

My five hour shift turns into seven due to a burst pipe in the kitchen, an overly rowdy crowd for a Thursday and a tequila supply so dangerously low we have to bring in reinforcements from the liquor store. I drag myself home, dreading class at nine in the morning, but when I get to my place, the first thing I think of is my quilt and Bella so I muster the energy to open the window and see if she ever showed.

The blanket is neatly folded in a square and sitting as close to the window as it can get, a note stuck through one corner of it with ... an earring. That's kind of ... gross. I pull the quilt through the window, removing the note carefully and walking down the short hall to my room.

_Sorry I missed you ... thanks._

_Bella_

I fall asleep hoping she's thanking me for much more than just the warmth.

* * *

Somehow I make it through class Friday morning and head home for a much-needed nap before work. The weather has been so twisted that I can't figure out whether I need a fan or the furnace on, and when I step into my apartment, it's like a sauna. I quickly pull my shirt off over my head and drop it to the floor, along with my shoes and jeans, before crossing the room to throw open the window and let the slightly cooler air enter the space.

After deciding the bedroom is entirely too stuffy, I settle on the futon and drift off easily to sleep.

A few short hours later, I wake with an itch. Like, a serious itch. Let me tell you something about dudes, guys, whatever you want to call us. When a guy has an itch, he scratches it. He might turn around so you don't see him, or he might do it under his desk at school or work, or whatever. But when you're home alone and you've got an itch, there's no reason not to stick your hand down there and take care of things. It may sound crude, but it's true.

I scratch. The itch goes away. And I close my eyes again. The room feels slightly darker than it was before, so I open again and glance at my watch to see how much longer I can sleep. It's a few minutes past four. Shit. I have to leave for work at five, and if I fall back asleep now, I'll never make it there.

With a groan, I stand up and stretch, making my back and neck pop a few times. Even though it's still hot and sticky in the room, I guess I should get dressed. As I walk over to where I left my clothes on the floor, the itch returns. I stick my hand in my boxer briefs and move some things around until I'm more comfortable, but fuck if the itch isn't persistent. I lean down and grab my jeans, pull them on one leg at a time, and reach in to scratch some more. Ahh. Much bet-

"Edward? Oh. Oh God. I'm sorry."

I spin around to see Bella leaning halfway into the window I left wide open before my nap, completely frazzled that she's just caught me with my hand down my pants. This is awkward.

"Bella. Umm, hi. I was just, yeah, I was definitely just doing what you think I was doing. Oh my God. Hey, it's a step up from going commando, right? Maybe?" My speech filter is obviously not in place, but Bella jumps in thankfully and smooths over the situation.

"Oh definitely. I mean, wearing underwear of any kind is better than not. I'm really proud of you." She can barely finish the sentence between her fits of laughter, and I have to join in. I think we've just stumbled our way much more successfully through this awkward situation than the last few.

"Hi," I say after catching my breath and take a step in her direction. "I missed seeing you yesterday." I give her a sheepish grin and hope she returns the sentiment from her note out loud.

"I did too. So, this is your place. Where you live." Bella wipes her hands on her pants and looks around carefully, inspecting my life piece by piece. She acts nervous, or maybe she's just afraid I'll put my hand in my pants again. I'm not sure which.

"Yep. This is me. Come in. Have a seat." I rack my brain for something to offer her. Should I give her a tour? There's only the bathroom and bedroom that she can't see from where she stands. Thank God I cleaned up yesterday. "Do you want to go to my room?" Crap. Not the smoothest thing to come up with.

"Uh, we can. Or did you want me to sit here?" She gestures toward the futon, confused by my outburst.

"Here is fine." I let out a sigh. "I'm nervous. Sorry. Let's sit and talk. I have about a half hour before I have to go to work."

"Oh. Right." Bella sounds disappointed, and I can't help but feel pleased that she wishes she had more time to spend with me.

"Listen," she says once we're settled next to each other. "I want to thank you for the other night. The things you said? About people and trust and all that shit, I mean, stuff? It was really sweet, and it helped me a lot. So, thanks."

After checking to make sure it wouldn't be the same hand I touched my balls with earlier, I make a bold move for me, reaching over to take her hand in my own, resting our entwined fingers on her thigh. "I meant every word. I know you don't know me that well, but you can trust me, Bella. I care about you. I really do."

I squeeze her hand, and she leans over, kissing me softly on the cheek.

"I'm beginning to believe that."

I lift my free hand to touch her chin, pulling her face gently toward my own, and I'm lost in her lips. It's every bit as good as the first time, and I want to keep going, exploring all of her with all of me, but I know that I couldn't do anything properly in the next half hour other than kiss her. So we kiss. And it's perfect.

* * *

**A huge thanks to whatsmynom and purelyamuse for recommending We Are Young to all their Twitter friends yesterday. My alerts blew up! Purely even made a banner for these guys, so go check it out on her blog purelyamuse dot blogspot dot com.**

**A reminder of thanks to MeteorMuse for betaing this as I wrote and to sadtomato for loving me even when I tell her how horny I am.**

**And as always, thanks to you for reading and reviewing. It makes my day!**


	10. Chapter 10

"I have to go," I whisper against her lips.

"Don't," she says, pulling me closer on the futon. We kiss again, my tongue exploring hers gently, tasting smoke and bubble gum. But eventually, I pull away and sigh.

"I can't be late for work. Will you be here this weekend?"

"Umm, Emmett's having a party tomorrow night. I was gonna see, maybe, would you wanna come downstairs?"

I don't know if I'm shocked that she wants me to meet her friends or not, but I'm definitely taken aback. At the thought of trying to fit in with that group, my mouth dries out, and my palms begin to sweat.

"I don't know, that's not really my thing. And I have to work. Maybe we could just meet on the fire escape after I get home? Talk for awhile?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure." I can tell she's disappointed, but it's just not that easy for me to agree to leave my comfort zone. Other than talking to Bella and kissing her, it's been a long time since I did anything that required much courage.

"I'll probably be too tired after work to do much anyway."

"Right," she replies.

We walk to my door together and leave the building, hands loosely clasped. It feels so right, my heart soars, and I lean over to kiss her forehead when we reach Rose's van.

"Hey, I should get your number if that's okay." I pause, getting my phone out of my pocket.

"Oh, right." Bella beams, and it makes me a little ticked that I didn't ask for it before now. We exchange quickly so I don't miss the bus, and I give her one last kiss.

"Until tomorrow night then. You climb up, and I'll bring Cokes?"

"Can't wait." She jumps in the passenger seat and watches me walk away, a frown creasing her forehead.

* * *

Bars are unpredictable. Thursday night, there was nearly a brawl, but on Saturday night, it's so dead Mandy wants to go beg people to come in from the street.

"Where the fuck is everyone?" She's understandably grumpy, but I'm secretly enjoying the reprieve.

"They'll show up. Calm down. Mop the floors or something," I tease.

"I guess you can go home if you want to, Ed. No use in both of us losing our Saturday night. And let's face it, the tips aren't going to be worth it anyway."

"It's only ten o'clock. How about I give it until 11:15? Then if it's still this slow, I'll catch the 11:30 bus home."

"Deal. What are you reading?" I'm perched on a barstool with a book for class, and Mandy peeks over my shoulder.

"The Shadow of the Wind? Believe it or not, it's a book about books. It's incredible so far."

"Sounds boring. I'm going to catch a smoke out back. Come get me if anyone comes in?"

"Sure." I nod and return to my book, getting lost in the words on the page quickly and taking notes in the little notebook at my side.

Half an hour passes, and no one shows up. I'm still reading, but with a glance at my watch every few seconds. As 11:15 approaches, I get excited about seeing Bella earlier than planned.

About twenty minutes later, I call it a night. "Mandy! I think I'm gonna go," I call back to the kitchen, shoving my book and notes in my bag and heading for the door. "You good?"

She sticks her head through the doorway, a beer in one hand and cell phone in the other. "I'm good. I've resorted to drinking. Get out of here, and go find your girl." She winks at me, so I laugh and head out into the night.

I text Bella while I wait at the bus stop, fidgeting around and wondering how things will pan out when I get back. She seemed pretty bummed out that I didn't want to go to the party downstairs, but I really hope to kiss her again.

She doesn't respond the entire way home, and I start to wonder if something happened. Maybe she's not even at the apartment. Maybe she and Rose went somewhere else. Maybe her dad got uptight and wanted her to stay home. Okay, now I'm just making things up. I'm so fucking nervous now that we're on the level of casual kisses and hand-holding.

When I start to walk up the path to my complex, I know there's a party here. Bass is thumping the building, and I can already hear alcohol-saturated voices from the second floor. I go to my apartment and drop my bag on the counter, eagerly opening the window and texting Bella at the same time.

_Got off work early. You coming out?_

Ten more minutes tick by with no response. Maybe she really was upset about the party. It's just a party, right? I guess if I don't fit in, it won't be the end of the world. Maybe I'll just wander down there and see what's going on.

I'm at the front door to Emmett's place all too soon. I haven't even had time to decide whether I should knock or just walk in, but I think about what Bella would do and end up just opening the door and stepping inside.

The room is loud and hazy, smoke settling around me like a curtain. It's too dark to see much but there's light coming in from the hallway, casting everyone in dark shadowy silhouettes. I take a few steps into the room, dodging two girls with red cups and a guy with a huge pipe. Rose is standing near the kitchen, and I start to walk toward her, assuming the huge guy she's hanging onto is Emmett. We make eye contact for a second, but then my eye senses motion to my right, and naturally I turn to look.

Sitting on a low couch in the dark is Bella. My Bella. And she's kissing the big, brawny guy from that day in the school parking lot.

I stagger backward, unable to cope with the blow to my heart, and with one more glance at Rose, I run back out the door and up the steps to my apartment, chest heaving in panic.

"Edward! Wait!" A voice ricochets off the concrete walls, but I don't stop running. If I stop, I might implode.


	11. Chapter 11

I collapse against the door as soon as I close it, unable to comprehend what I've just seen. What the hell happened? Yesterday, she was kissing me. _We _were kissing, dammit. And now, tonight, she's all over some other dude? The situation expands in my brain until it becomes a monster, and I have to stop myself when I get to the point where I'm imagining him fucking her in some back bedroom. Not my Bella. I can't let myself think that the Bella I've come to know would do that.

I press my palms against my eyes, willing away the images and trying to calm myself with deep breaths. Maybe there's an explanation. Right. The best explanation is that other dude is her type, and I'm not. I'll never be like Bella, wild and reckless. I'll just be boring, nerdy Edward, busting my ass to get from day to day.

I grab a soda from the fridge, turn off my phone, and do what I've always done best. I pick up a book and try to lose myself in a world that isn't my own. The words are a jumble on the page for what seems like ages, but eventually I settle into a comfortable reading pace, shoving Bella and that dude's tongue to the back of my mind.

And then I see it.

_"__Destiny is usually just around the corner ... But what destiny does not do is home visits. You have to go for it." _

The quote hits me like a freight train. Destiny doesn't do home visits. I can sit and chit chat with Bella, flirting with her on my balcony all I want to, but am I actually going for it? No. I'm playing it safe, keeping this relationship-if it even is one-under wraps, in my apartment. If I really want anything with her, I have to put myself out there all the way. She invited me to a party, she asked me to be a part of her life, but I was too scared to go. I pretty much blew her off, now that I think about it. And that's kind of bullshit. Can I really blame her for kissing some other dude when I'm trying to keep what we have hidden on a fire escape?

I stand up, getting more angry with myself by the second. You know what, fuck that other dude. Bella cares about _me_. She seeks _me_ out and enjoys spending time with _me_. And I may get a broken nose out of the deal, but I'm going after my destiny.

I walk to my door, throw it open, and pound down the stairs with fierce determination. At the threshold where the door now hangs wide open, I don't hesitate like before. I walk in straight to that couch, but she's not there. I close my eyes, the same image from before of her in that seedy back room flooding my brain, but I shake it off and turn toward the kitchen. If I can't find Bella, I'll find Rose and demand to know where she is.

Before I get two steps, Rose finds me first.

"Commando! Thank fuck you came back, dude. It wasn't what it looked like. She's so wasted. When I told her you saw her kissing Jake, she freaked the fuck out, man."

I try to interrupt her a few times, but she's rambling on about Bella locking herself in the bathroom or something ridiculous, and I finally grab her by the shoulders and shake her.

"Rose? Rose! Where is Bella now? Where is she?"

"I told you, man, she's in the fucking bathroom. Hey, can I go piss in your place? This last beer totally, like, put me over the top, and she won't let me in there."

Relief washes over me as I realize that my worst fears are not actually going to come true. "Whatever," I say, already moving past her toward the hallway. "I've got to find Bella."

I get to the bathroom door and try the handle. Locked, just as Rose said. I shake it a few times. These doors aren't exactly made to hold up against a raid, but I don't think I'm strong enough to break it.

"Bella? Bella, are you in there?"

No answer. The music is so loud she probably can't even hear me, so I move my face to the corner where the door meets the frame and shout loudly.

"Bella! Open the door. It's Edward." I jimmy the handle a few more times and hear noises on the other side.

The door opens a tiny crack, and there she is, eye makeup streaking all the way down both cheeks to her neck. It's not a pretty sight.

"Edward? Fuck, Edward, I'm so sorry." And just like that, she starts to sob, huge tears falling down.

"Hey, either let me in or come out of there, okay?" I move cautiously, afraid to scare her. "Calm down. We'll talk it out."

Bella opens the door and slides to the floor in a heap, wailing.

"But I'm so sorry, Edward. I drank too much because I was so upset that you didn't want to come down because you're obviously embarrassed to be seen with me, and then Jake was there, and he kissed me." Her wailing increases pitch here. "And, I think, I don't know, I think I might have kissed him back." Finally, she's done. She dissolves into sobs and wails and sniffles, and it's obvious that she's wasted, and I'm not going to be able to talk to her rationally tonight.

"Bella? I need you to stand up. We're going upstairs to my place where we can talk about all this." And by talk, I mean put her to bed to sleep it off. She doesn't stand though, just lies there in a helpless puddle of tears, snot, and mascara.

I look around. No one is really paying that close of attention to us, and thank God that Jake guy is nowhere to be seen. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose. I get down on one knee for leverage and haul her up in my arms before standing up and leaving this place, cradling Bella close to me.

I make my way slowly to my apartment, and when I pause at the top, panting pretty heavily, I realize Bella has already passed out, her head pillowed against my shoulder like she's been there forever. I can't help but smile as I kick open my door ... right into Rose.

"Fuck! Look out, dude!"

"Jesus. Sorry, Rose. Hey, does Bella have a purse or anything down there? She's staying at my place tonight. Can you call her dad or something?" I prop some of Bella's weight against the wall, and Rose stares at me wide-eyed.

"You carried her up here? Like a fucking knight in shining armour? Holy fuck, dude. High five for that shit." She lifts her hand in the air before remembering that my hands are otherwise occupied and continues. "Never mind. Umm, yeah she has a bag because she was just gonna stay at my place. I'll bring it right back up."

I tell her thanks and that I'll leave the door open for her, and finally carry Bella down the hallway to my bedroom. I lay her on the bed and smooth her hair back against the pillow. There are some tissues on my dresser, so I clean up her face a bit, and she stirs.

"Edward? I'm so sorry. Please."

"Shhhh. It's okay. We'll talk in the morning. Go to sleep." I kiss her forehead gently and then stand, pulling my quilt over her bare legs and grabbing the spare pillow to take to the futon in the living room. No way am I sleeping next to her in this state ... with this unfinished business.

After Rose drops off Bella's bag, I lock up, turn off the lights, and lie back on the futon, finally able to process the events of the night. Organizing the timeline in my head, I have to chuckle when I realize how much more dramatic my life has become since Bella has been in it. All of this happened in one night? It feels like weeks.

I lie there thinking about it all for hours, analyzing the events as they happened and wondering how things could have gone differently. The last thing I remember thinking before falling asleep is that, whether Bella kissed Jake back or not, I want to be with her. And tomorrow, I'm going to make sure that's clear.

* * *

**He didn't get punched. How could I let that happen to my poor baby Edward? Come play with me on Twitter. I'm SingleStrand over there, my original FFn name.**


	12. Chapter 12

The sun wakes me early, and I sit on the futon for a long time, letting my brain wake up and remember last night. Part of me is terrified that Bella won't be in my room, having left silently somehow in the night, and the other part of me is terrified that she will still be there, asleep in my bed and waiting for me to come talk to her. So yeah, I guess you could say I'm freaking out either way.

The clock only reads eight a.m., but if I put this off much longer, I'll lose it, so I haul myself up and head for the bathroom. My hands tremble as I uncap and roll on my deodorant. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and rinse thoroughly with mouthwash before deciding to confront the inevitable.

"Bella," I whisper, opening my bedroom door. "You awake?"

"Hmmphmm."

My palms begin to sweat as I push the door a few more inches. "Hey. Do you need anything? Water? Advil?"

"Hmmphmm." She rolls over and pulls the quilt tighter around her shoulders.

"I'll take that as a yes. Be right back." While organizing a makeshift breakfast in the kitchen, I feel like I'm taking care of my girl, not just someone I know, and a smile is permanently plastered on my face when I reenter the room with Golden Grahams, milk, ice water, Advil, and two bowls and spoons.

"Move over," I say and sit on the edge of the bed, trying to balance the cereal and stuff in my arms.

"No no," she groans, and I laugh.

"Seriously. I brought sugar, water, and medicine. Now move over. I'm hungry."

Once she finally opens her eyes, Bella brightens and gulps down water quickly before shyly reaching for the cereal.

"Thanks," she says and nudges my foot with her own.

"No problem," I reply and take another bite of graham goodness.

"You know what I mean."

"Well, I think I do, but I think we have a lot to talk about." I look over at her, willing the situation not to become awkward. We need to have this talk, and I need courage to do it. She nods her head and frowns down at her cereal, eating the rest of her breakfast in silence.

As soon as we're finished, Bella tells me she has to use the restroom and that she'll meet me on the balcony. "It feels safer out there."

"Okay. Take your time," I reassure her.

It takes awhile, but when she comes down the hall, she looks much better. Her hair is pulled back from her now-clean face, not a trace of mascara or blush in sight, and she's barefoot. In other words, she's as gorgeous as ever.

"Come here," I call, my voice husky, and pat the futon next to me. She sits gingerly, leaning toward me and taking my hand.

"Edward, I want to go first. I need to say some things to you, and I'm afraid whatever you have to say might change after you hear me out."

My heart falls into my stomach, but I nod my assent, and she takes a deep breath.

"I've never felt like my life held any value. No one cared; there was no one I trusted. I mean, Rose is a great friend for things like partying and shopping, but we don't exactly talk about our feelings. And then I met you, and you were ... this perfect guy that cared so much about me and my life and, I don't know. You were just what I've been needed. You're smart, and you're funny, and I really like you. But I started to realize that the only time you ever wanted to see me was alone on your balcony. Like, you never once mentioned hanging out or going anywhere, so I invited you to a party with my friends, which was a pretty big fucking deal to me, and you totally shot me down. I got really upset. I was crying and shit, and then I decided to just get wasted-because that's what I do best, right? So as soon as we got to Emmett's, I downed four beers as fast as I could, and then Rose told Jake what was wrong with me, and he came over and was telling me all about how a smart guy like you wouldn't want to date me, that you were probably embarrassed to be seen with a girl like me in public. I wanted him to be wrong, but I really thought he was right. And then," she pauses and swallows, holding back her tears, "then he kissed me. It was totally out of nowhere. We've been friends for years but nothing has ever, God, never ever happened.

"So basically, I fucked it all up, and I'm really sorry. And even though I really, really wanted this to be more, I hope we can at least be friends still. Because, Edward, I feel like you're the only one that believes I'm worth something. And I need that in my life. So please, forgive me. Don't kick me out. Say you'll still talk to me when you have time. Please."

She's squeezing my hand tightly with her own and looks up at me with tears welling in her eyes. Before I can organize my thoughts, the tears spill over, and she's sobbing all over again.

"Hey." I pull her to my side, feeling her head hit my shoulder and rubbing her back with my free hand. "Shh, it's okay. It's gonna be okay. Look at me. Please."

When she finally pulls back and meets my eyes, I begin. "Bella, of course I forgive you. I can't stand the thought of not being the guy on the other end of that kiss last night, but accidents happen. And while I never want you to be in a situation like last night again, I know that we had a huge communication failure, and it was just as much my fault as your own. Bella, I don't want to be your friend. I want to _be_with you. I want to be your boyfriend and bring you Golden Grahams and talk to you about books and songs and the stars. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and take you everywhere in this city: to the movies, to dinner, the library, anywhere I can afford. I want to go there with you. I could never be embarrassed by you. Never think that. Ever.

"But Bella, I'm not perfect. I screw things up, and I say stupid things, and I might never fit into scenes like that party last night. I'll never be perfect ... and, you know, I'm no Gatsby either. This place, these clothes, the bus ... this is me. What you see is what you get. I hope that's enough."

I close my eyes, holding out hope that I've said the right things and that she'll take me for who I am. I don't have to wait long. In mere seconds, I feel lips touching my own, soft and warm and perfect.

"I like what I see. I _want_ what I see, Edward."


	13. Chapter 13

We kiss, and we kiss, and then we kiss some more. I can't even begin to describe how amazing it is holding Bella in my arms and knowing she wants to be right here in this moment every bit as much as I do. It's pretty fucking perfect.

But I'm determined to get her out of my cocoon, out in the real world where I can hold her hand and show her off, proud that she's by my side.

"Why don't I set up the bathroom for you to take a shower, and then I'll take a quick one too before heading out?"

"Heading out? I don't have to go home yet. My dad probably won't expect me 'til tonight," she says, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure he assumes I'm with Rose for the whole weekend."

I pull her back against me. "There's no way you're going home, baby. I'm taking you out on the town. Like I promised, remember?"

Her whole face lights up at the prospect, but she bites her lip to hide her grin. "Really? Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. C'mon. I'll get you a towel." I pull her up off the couch, and in a matter of seconds, she's closing the bathroom door awkwardly behind me, pulling her shirt off and unbuttoning her skirt.

"Bella. Wait, wait. Stop trying to take your clothes off before I'm out of here." My brain knows I should leave, be a gentleman, but my dick thinks differently, and my eyes roam her body, pausing too long on the swell of her chest over the cups of her bra and the curve of her rib cage into her tiny waist.

Her face falls. "Sorry. I thought ..."

I fly into nineteen-year-old dude mode. "Shit. You thought we were gonna shower-Jesus, Bella. You want me in here when you? Fuck." I lose all eloquence at the prospect.

"Damn, Edward." Bella's lips curve up in her perfect smile. "Who taught you to cuss like that? And here, I thought you were a sweet, nerdy guy." She winks and slides her skirt down over her hips, letting it fall to the floor and reveal her tiny purple panties.

I close my eyes and lean back against the door. "Fuck, Bella," I whisper, trying to decide what the right thing is here. Warm skin leans against my own, and her lips find mine.

"Please. You've told me how you feel. Show me?"

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer to me, moaning at the contact.

"Bella," I whisper again, losing my willpower rapidly.

"I promise it'll be good." Her tongue sweeps into my mouth, and my moans turn into groans, my hips pushing out to meet her own. Her hands drift down my sides, finding the hem of my tee shirt and pulling it up, exposing my stomach and then my chest. We pull apart for the few moments it takes her to get it over my head and discard it on the floor with her own clothes, then lean right back against each other with a sigh.

"Shit, Edward. You feel so fucking good."

"You do too," I get out between kisses. "Are you sure you want to do this already? I mean, we've got lots of time, Bella."

She falters slightly before continuing on. "I need this, Edward. I need to know how it feels with someone that really means it." Bella pulls back and meets my eyes, her determination reflecting in my uncertainty. "With you."

If I had a shred of willpower remaining, that phrase destroys it. With one hand on her neck and the other at her lower back, I turn Bella so that her back is to the door, kissing her with everything I am. She can't get close enough, finally jumping up and wrapping her legs around my waist. I can feel her right _there_, warm and so fucking close to where I want her, and I jerk the door open before carrying her the few short steps to my bed, laying her back and curving my torso over her, my feet planted at the side of the bed.

"Bella, you're so beautiful." My lips and hands roam her nearly-naked body, exploring all the inches I had yet to see but that my mind has imagined repeatedly. She's even more beautiful in real life. "Is this what you want? You want me? Because I want you so fucking bad right now."

"Yes. Yes, Edward." She pulls me onto the bed next to her, rolling me to my back and straddling me. "God. You're so sexy."

She lines herself up with my dick and slowly moves against me, grinding softly on the hard-on in my jeans.

"Shit." I squeeze my eyes closed and let my other senses feel. The feel of her hands firm on my chest, holding herself up. The sound of the little breaths she's taking and her underwear rubbing against my pants. I finally unclench my eyes and relax a bit, reaching my hands up to hold her sides, her back, her ass. I swallow hard.

"You feel so fucking good. Fuck me, Edward."

And that's when it hits me. If we do this now, this soon, that's all it will be. It'll be fucking. And my Bella deserves better than that. I sit up, wrapping my arms around her and meeting her face-to-face.

"Bella, believe me. I want to. I want to so bad it hurts right now. But ... I want this to be special. I want it to be everything you've dreamed the perfect time being. And that's not right now: hungover, new relationship, after a miscommunication-that's fucking. And I don't want to fuck you, Bella. I want to make love to you. When the time is right."

She kisses me a few times and then sighs. "You're right. I'm sorry I pushed you." She slides off my lap and stands. "Shower?"

"You first," I say and smile.

* * *

**OK so this IS Edward. He has superhuman powers of restraint, right? And a horrible case of blueballs.**

**If you found WAY on ADF, please let me know what campfire. I'll come chat when I have time!**


	14. Chapter 14

At first, I feel a little lame making Bella get on the bus with me, but I suck it up, remembering what I told her only an hour earlier. What she sees is what she gets, and I have nothing to be ashamed of.

"So, where are you taking me?" She's sitting pressed up against my side, her far leg crossed over her near one at the knee, foot grazing the side of my calf every time the bus jostles us.

"It's a surprise," I reply, grinning smugly. "It's no big deal. Just a few places in town that I frequent."

When we get off right at the edge of campus, she looks surprised-and not in a good way.

"Fuck, Edward, I don't even know if I'm gonna graduate."

Before she can continue on her path of self-doubt, I grab her by the hand, gently guiding her toward the building I want to show her. "Yes you are," I say firmly. "You're graduating, and you have so many things to look forward to in your life, it's not even funny. Now come with me."

I show her the library, my favorite study table, the couch I used to sleep and read on to pass the time between class and work. It takes awhile but, little by little, she becomes more comfortable, warming up to the idea of life after high school. But there's lingering doubt, I can tell.

"Bella, you don't have to go to Harvard to have a future. You just have to be willing to work hard to better yourself. That's all I'm doing right now ... and it's hard, believe me. Personally, I think it'll all be worth it though." I end my little speech back at the bus stop. "So. You ready for some lunch?" I smile and kiss her cheek.

"Totally. I'm fucking starving."

I must have taken the route a million times, but as I lead her in through the front door, I have to brace myself for the onslaught that's bound to ensue.

"Edward! It's Sunday, doll. What're you-oh. Oh, well doesn't that just explain it all. Edward graces our presence on his only day off, and whaddya know? There's a gorgeous little lady at his side." Mandy is definitely not going to make this easy on me.

"Uh, hey. Just coming by to have a little lunch. Let's not make a huge deal out of it." I try to steer Bella toward a table in the corner, but Mandy has already prepped two seats front and center at the bar.

"Oh, sorry. It's a slow day. The rest of the tables are closed. Only serving at the bar right now." The teasing glint in her eye makes me crazy but there's really nothing I can do but help Bella onto a barstool and take a spot next to her, pulling her chair closer to my own. I can't help it. Now that I've got her, I can't stand not touching her in some way.

Our elbows brush against each other as we look over the menu, and I give her tips on what's good and what's excellent. We both decide on reubens and fries and settle in with a couple of Cokes.

"So, this is where I work. In case you hadn't figured that out yet." I grin and duck my head, hoping against all hopes that Mandy isn't eavesdropping. "Mandy's a great boss. Annoying, but great," I add, just in case she is.

"It's really cool. I've never been in her before. Honestly, I didn't think I was allowed." Bella looks around nervously, and I have to laugh.

"It's fine. Really. It's a bar and grill. As long as she's not serving us alcohol, which she's never done before, we're on the up and up. I promise." I grab Bella's hand under the edge of the bar and let it rest in my own casually on my thigh. I rub little circles on her thumb with mine for a few minutes, letting her take in the place and gather her thoughts. When our food comes, I break the silence.

"Cheers. To whatever we become together." I clink my soda glass against hers, trying to ignore how cheesy I sound and dig in.

Bella moans so much over her sandwich, I nearly get a hard-on.

"This is the best sandwich ever. Mandy, your place is the greatest." We're both nearly done eating, and I get the feeling Mandy has been waiting to pounce. She takes the invitation to come over and drill us with questions.

We don't make it out of there for two more hours, but by the time we leave, I think it's safe to say the two main women in my life have met each other's approval. And then some.

* * *

Three weeks later, I'm sitting on my futon thinking about every unsexy thought I can possibly think of. Bella's lips are wrapped around my dick, and I'm trying to last longer than the two minutes it took a few nights ago.

"Bella. Your mouth ... I can't. Fuck. Don't stop. That thing with your teeth on the side of my-fuuuuuuck." I come hard, trying my best not to thrust into her mouth as I ride out the orgasm. She looks up eventually, lips red and cheeks flushed, grinning from ear to ear.

"How was that? Better?"

I don't know how it could possibly be any better than every other moment with her. "Come here. I want to make you feel good too."

She slides up from the floor, spreading her barely-clothed legs to straddle me. I pull her toward me so I can kiss her, tasting the remnants of my release on her tongue. One hand leaves her back, slipping around her side and caressing her belly for a few seconds, teasing her. She wiggles a bit, letting me know without words what she wants, and I give in.

Two of my fingers slip inside of her, sliding in and out slowly. She grins against my lips and whispers urgently.

"You know that's not what I like."

I smirk back at her, but let my fingers move faster, curving them forward and letting my thumb find her clit. I have to admit that there were some embarrassing study sessions on this subject over the past week. The first few times, Bella was afraid to tell me what to do, and I had to fumble my way around until she got bold enough to ask for what she wanted. I think we've practiced enough now that I can make her feel good, though.

When she begins to moan and kiss me with more force, I know she's close.

"Come for me, baby. I like to know I can do this to you." I move my fingers faster, holding her waist tightly and sucking her neck. I get carried away and leave a mark, but I don't care. My Bella is coming, whispering my name and falling apart against me.

As her heartbeat calms, I move her around to sit on my lap, holding her against my chest and kissing her cheek, forehead, and nose. Content, we sit there long after the sun sets, casting the room in shadows.

* * *

**Sigh. Tomorrow is the last chapter, and Monday is the epi. Thanks for taking this ride with me friends. I'm SingleStrand on Twitter, and I'd love to know what ADF campfire y'all are taking about WAYward on so I can join in!**

**Xox**


	15. Chapter 15

It's going to happen tonight. I know it. I don't want to plan this out-I'm the one that keeps saying it should just happen-but I have a strong feeling it's going to be tonight.

Bella has been begging for sex for the last week. I don't know if she's exceptionally horny or she's just sick of giving me blow jobs, but she's been throwing herself at me all week long. Making an excuse to shower at my place and then coming out of the bathroom naked, sunbathing in a bikini on my balcony, wearing my favorite blue tank top to dinner last night. She's pushing my buttons, and she knows it. She even left her pink packet of birth control pills out on my bathroom counter. Jesus.

I put on a brand new black v-neck and my best jeans and look at myself in the mirror. If Bella would let me put any product in my hair, tonight would be the night I would spend extra time perfecting it. Since she won't, I took extra care in shaving my face instead, and I look pretty fucking good if I do say so myself.

I take the bus to Bella's stop and walk down the sidewalk to her house, nervously fidgeting after I ring the doorbell. Her dad scares the shit out of me.

"Edward, good to see you, kid." He pulls the door open a little too widely and his voice is a little too loud. Great. He's wasted. At least he won't remember giving me a hard time. "You're early! I bet Bella isn't anywhere close to ready. Come in. Have a seat."

I glance up the stairs, willing Bella to appear so we can dash out the door, but no such luck. "How's your weekend going so far, Chief Swan?" Bella finally admitted this week that her dad is the Chief of Police, not just an officer. _That _really calmed my nerves.

"It's great. I've got a dozen lovely ladies lined up in the fridge, and we're gonna have an awesome night. Wait. Make that ..." he counts on his fingers, "seven lovely ladies. Got an early start."

I nod my head and look away, trying to think of something else to talk about besides beer. Thank God, Bella runs down the stairs at that moment, flip flops clomping and dark hair flying. She stops by the front door to put her lipstick on in the hall mirror and calls into the living room.

"Dad, leave Edward alone. C'mon, babe."

I stand from the couch and practically run in her direction. "Bye, Charlie!" I call out and grab her by the hand, kissing her as we head toward the old sedan her dad bought her a while back.

* * *

We go to dinner and later to a party at Rose's friend's place. Bella is all over me the whole time and, frankly, it embarrasses me. So I ask if she wants to go to my place even though it's only ten o'clock, and she jumps at the chance.

Twenty minutes later, we're in my bed. Naked. We've been here before. I mean, physical aspects of our relationship have progressed-we are, after all, horny teenagers. But this feels different. Neither of us have been drinking. Bella picked some kind of soft music on my laptop when we got home, and it plays next to the bed. And she's looking at me like ... like I'm the only guy in the world she can see.

I've known that I love Bella for what feels like forever, but I haven't said it yet. As I prop myself on my elbow, turning her gently to her back on my pillows, I know this is it. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, savoring the moment.

"Bella. I ... I love you. And I'm ready. Tonight. We're young and having fun and whatever ... but this is it for me. You're my missing half. I've found you and I want to _keep _you, and I don't want sex to change that. I want to make love to you."

She smiles and bites her lip, holding in a giggle at my cheesiness. But then she speaks and every other sound in the room dims in comparison to her words.

"I love you, too. I mean, I think we both know that I've been ready for _that_part for some time now. But the love part ... I think I'm ready for that too. Last Sunday night, when you were reading those poems to me on the fire escape? At first I thought it was totally cheesy and weird, but there was one about love, and it made me realize so much. I love you, and I want to be with you. In bed and out."

I kiss her deeply, but my mind drifts to the poetry I was reading to her last weekend, and I get distracted.

"Wait. What poem?" I pull back and look at her, racking my brain for what line caused Bella to know she loves me.

"It was the one about not knowing how or why he loves her. He just does. It was really beautiful but it also made me realize that I don't need reasons to love you. I just do. And that's all that matters to me." She pulls me back down, kissing me and wrapping her legs around my waist.

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where."

I kiss a trail down her neck slowly, whispering as I go.

"I love you straightforwardly, without complexity or pride."

My left hand moves down, trembling as I position myself where we fit together.

"I love you because I know no other way."

And gently, slowly, I push into her for the first time. It's warm and soft and her, and all I can do is whisper, "Bella, Bella, Bella," over and over again as I move inside her.

When I look back up at Bella, her eyes are shining with tears.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" I ask, worried that I'm doing something wrong or moving too forcefully, but she shakes her head.

"No. It's perfect. I love you." We move together slow and fast, gently and forcefully, and too soon, I'm coming inside her, bucking my hips roughly against her own.

I lift the weight of my body off of Bella and look down at her. She's smiling that smile, the one that tells me she's really fucking proud of herself, but I reach between us and begin to rub her clit.

"You didn't come," I say, brow furrowed in concentration.

"It's okay, baby. It was fucking incredible."

"Nope. Not done with you yet." I feel myself slide from inside her, but I don't move to clean up until she's trembling against me, gripping my arms with her hands and falling apart underneath me.

After another long hour of kissing, touching, and round two, I hold Bella in my bed, rubbing circles on her back and humming softly.

"Where I does not exist, nor you ..." Bella is murmuring against my chest quietly, and I recognize the end of the poem.

_So close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep._


	16. Epilogue

**I hate long A/Ns as much as the next guy but here goes:**

**Thanks to my mentor and lover sadtomato for all she does to encourage my writing, to my comma corrector and real life lifesaver MeteorMuse for being a friend AND a beta, and to the ever lovely friend Anntastic for asking all the right why questions when she preread this for me. ILY girls.**

**Thanks to Purelyamuse for making a banner for this story! You can find it on her blog purelyamuse dot blogspot dot com. The Saturday that she and whatsmynom recommended WAY on Twitter was awesome. Thank you ladies for supporting other authors. I'd say go read their stuff but I'm sure you already have.**

**Thanks to the Etched In Ink Fest for inspiring this story and to the Remember When This Was Fun contest for reminding me what we used to all be here for. FUN.**

**And to all the readers who read, reviewed with lovely insightful thoughts, recced on Twitter, talked about Edward on ADF, etc. This story was a source of stress relief and comfort for me when I wrote it, and I'm just glad that someone else loves it too.**

**Xox,**

**SingleStrand**

* * *

"Isabella Marie Swan." The amplified voice bounces against the walls of the gym, but the words fade into the background as the people around me whoop and clap, cheering her across the stage.

I look at Rose and Emmett on my left and Bella's dad with his girl of the moment on my right, and I smile, glad that Bella has a small cheering section for graduation. She still needs the encouragement.

"Woo hoo!" I yell, hands cupped to my mouth, hoping she can pick my voice out from the others. She pauses as she receives her diploma and looks our way. I pull my phone out of my pocket with barely a second to spare and snap a shot. Damn, she looks good.

After the ceremony, I hustle toward her through the crowd, pulling her into a huge hug and swinging her around, our lips pressed together in an excited kiss.

"I'm so proud of you," I whisper, feeling her body slide down the length of my own as her feet find the floor again.

"Thank you, baby. I owe most of it to you." She grins and kisses me again, but I have to protest.

"No way. You did that all on your own. Very little help from me." We smile at each other cheesily, only breaking apart when we hear Charlie's trademark throat clearing.

"Proud of you, Bells," he mumbles and pulls her to his side. To my surprise, he even presses a peck to her forehead. That's the most affection I've seen from him to date.

"Thanks for coming, Dad." Bella's voice is hoarse, and I can tell she's about to cry.

"Let's go grab some food," I say and pull Bella toward the exit. "Meet you guys there!"

Twenty minutes later, we walk into the bar to balloons and streamers and only about ten people. I made sure Mandy wouldn't mind if we took up the whole place for the afternoon. It's a special day after all, but it turns out Bella doesn't have a ton of friends she wanted to invite.

We eat and talk, and eventually Charlie offers us a ride to the apartment. Normally, I'd shrug it off and keep my pride intact by taking the bus home. But Bella looks so fucking fuckable in that dress she's been wearing all day, I jump at the chance to get her alone a few minutes earlier.

As soon as the front door slams shut, I'm all over her, kissing her throat and neck and pulling her legs apart to straddle one of my own.

"You look so fucking hot in this dress. It's not fair," I growl as I rub my hands up her thighs. "Do you have any idea how sexy it is to see you holding a diploma, Miss Swan?"

She giggles and untucks my dress shirt from my pants. "Probably as sexy as it is to see you every single day. Bed. Please."

We kiss and stumble our way down the hall to the bedroom, unwilling to pull our tangle of bodies apart for even a few seconds, and when we finally get to the bed, she pushes me onto my back.

"Slow down, baby. We've got all night," she says, biting her bottom lip shyly before pulling her dress up and off over her head, letting the gauzy purple fabric slip to a puddle on the floor, and standing bare before me.

My eyes grow wider as I sit up and gulp. "You weren't wearing any ... I mean ... why don't you have any of those hot panties on underneath ... oh sweet Jesus, come here."

Bella steps back though, pouting. "What? I thought you'd like the homage to our first meeting. After all ... someone I know goes commando at _least_once a week."

I know she's fucking with me now, but there's a part of me that's disappointed I didn't know all day long that she was naked under that dress. Until I stand in front of her and unzip my pants.

"I have no idea who you're talking about." I force myself to meet her gaze with a perfectly straight face and watch her expression as my pants fall to the floor and she realizes that, in fact, I've been without underwear all day as well. "Great minds think alike, I guess."

She snorts, and we collapse onto the bed naked, laughing and kissing.

Things heat up quickly. I lie on my back and pull her over me, giving her control like I know she likes. She doesn't waste much time, holding me in place as she slides down over me and throwing her head back when I'm fully inside her.

"Fuck," she whispers as she begins to move.

"I know, baby," I reply and hold onto her hips, using the leverage to pull myself up to a sitting position. "Make it good for you. I want to see you come." I bury my face in her breasts, concentrating on licking and sucking her nipples while she rides me slowly.

Eventually, I slide one hand in between us and find her clit, rubbing it as her pace quickens, and her breathing gets harder.

"Right there, baby. Yes. Don't stop. Shit. Gonna come." She starts making these little pulsing movements, and I know she's hit her climax, so I slow my movements a bit, letting her dictate how hard or soft we move.

As soon as she's gained her breath again, she's back to the fast bouncing, whispering dirty things in my ear about how bad she wants me to come and to fuck her harder. It doesn't take long before I lose it, coming inside of her and falling back onto the bed, spent and sated.

Bella cleans up in the bathroom before coming back to bed dressed in just the white undershirt I wore all day under my dress shirt. She curls up at my side, yawning.

"Baby, you can get a clean shirt," I tell her, smirking at her reply before she even speaks.

"But this one smells just like you." She does this all the time, and I always tell her that _I_also smell just like me, and she happens to be lying right beside me. But secretly, I love that she likes to wear my clothes. Even the day-old sweaty ones.

"Love you," Bella whispers, already drifting off. It's only eight o'clock, but she's had a big day, and I know I can wake her up in the middle of the night for round two, so I let her fall asleep.

My tee shirt is too big for her and falls off one shoulder, revealing her tattoo. Before settling in, I rub a finger over it gently. What used to read _TRUST NO ONE_ now just says _TRUST_with a beautiful array of lilies underneath it. She surprised me with it on our anniversary last year, coming home late from class to show me that she'd had it covered up. I cried like a baby at what the change symbolized. Bella had finally found someone to trust in this life. Me.

We've made a thousand memories over the last four years-some of them have ended in tears, some in laughter, some in incredibly hot sex. School, work, friends, family, apartments-it hasn't always been easy, but we've faced it all together since the day I declared that I wanted to be her boyfriend.

I graduated last year, busting my ass to finish in time, to be ready for the job market in autumn. Because I was the first one in my family to get a real bonafide college degree, Uncle Carlisle came and threw a big party. Since I had very few friends to attend the shindig, he had plenty of time to get to know Bella and really connected with her. He and his wife have already been back to visit since then.

I got on teaching Literature at the same high school both Bella and I attended. The school system here remains in total disarray, and I'll have to move on to a different job soon if I want to support a family, but for now, I feel like I'm making a tiny bit of difference in my students' lives. Whatever difference I can make by showing that I care, that someone is invested in their future whether their family and friends are or not.

After much prodding and pushing, Bella got her basics out of the way at the community college I attended while living at home so she could save a bit of money. My girl wants to work with teenagers too, maybe as a counselor or therapist. She ended up transferring to the university for her junior and senior years, graduating today with a degree in psychology. I think she should go on and get a specialized degree while she works as a court youth advocate or a family services worker or something related to her field, but she can't decide. She works the bar with Mandy now that I don't anymore, and she still has time to figure it all out.

As I lie here thinking about all we've made it through, I can't help but get excited about what lies ahead. Maybe we'll move far away, join Carlisle and his wife in California. Maybe we'll stay right here, both getting tenured in the local school system and never having much money but always each other. Maybe we'll have kids, or maybe we won't. Who knows where the road will lead us. We are young, after all.


End file.
